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DISCLAIMER: The following is a fictional story and all characters depicted within are the intellectual property of Silversune. The story contains themes of slavery, punishment, sex between men and men, men and women and possibly men and other ‘things’. If you are under 18, it is illegal to read this sort of content in your region, or if you do not enjoy these types of stories please read no further.

Prelude: Contract Signing

Vasyl sat quietly on the plain, and uncomfortable, wooden chair that he'd been offered upon entering the lawyer's office. The two stared at one another for a few long moments and then Mister Jameson cleared his throat and began to shuffle through the young man's file.

“I see here that you were orphaned at the age of fifteen," the balding man began and then paused to look back up at Vasyl once more before he continued, “and that since that point you have been withdrawing and enrolling in different schools approximately every six months or so."

“Yes sir, I was moved from family member to family member," came the young man's response as he too moved his gaze from man to folder and up once again.

“And you're… eighteen now?" Vasyl nodded in response to the question, but remained silent as the lawyer pulled off his glasses and began to clean them while continuing his line of questioning. “While I understand this is a very large sum of money that my employer is offering, I have to ask why you're willing to take this… position."

Vasyl fell quiet for a few long moments, considering his response before he exhaled deeply and shrugged. “I can't candy coat it. It is the money. My parents left my inheritance in the hands of my aunt; she decided to spend it on their funerals and then things to 'help' her and her husband to overcome the loss. After it was gone I was sent to another relative and so on. I want to continue my education and go to university, but I've nothing left and I don't want to go into debt to do it. I'm sick of owing others. So yes, it is the money."

Jameson sat back as the boy explained his predicament, but offered no judgment on what he had just been told. Instead the man replaced his glasses before making a few notes and then he asked a final pair of questions. “The contract is slated for two years. After that you'll be free to go on with your life, until then though you would become the property of Mister Smythe. And let me speak plainly here rather than as a lawyer. He'll be able to do anything to you except, well to be blunt, ending your life. Are you -truly- alright with this?"

The young man started to nod halfway through the lawyer's question and then paused for a moment before he straightened up and nodded firmly once more. “Yes." The answer was simple, definite and left little room for further questioning.

For a short period Mr. Jameson just watched the young man. Vasyl was an attractive young man, though he neither fell under the heading of handsome or beautiful. His features weren't androgynous as some of the boys who came and applied for the position, but neither were they rugged. If anything he had very defined good looks and likely would have fallen under the heading of 'handsome scholar' in his schools rather than that of jock. He did, however, have the body of someone that would be at home on the track team. His hair was a dark brown with hints of red highlight hiding away in the chestnut and his eyes were a fairly stark contrast of dark blue which gave him something of an earnest look.

After his long inspection the lawyer sighed heavily and set a contract before the young man. “This is the agreement. Once you sign this you will be taken from the office by one of Mr. Smythe's employees and conveyed to your new residence. Your current residence will be maintained during the period so you need not worry over that. You'll need none of your possessions either. If you have matters to attend to I would suggest you schedule another appointment with my secretary. Do you need more time?"

This was usually when the second thoughts began to arise in earnest. Vasyl shook his head though and began to reach for a pen only to be stopped by Jameson. “One final note I would like to make absolutely clear as it's come up before. When I say that your body will become the property of Mister Smythe to do with as he pleases I mean it. If he decides to make cosmetic changes he has legal right to do so. This can include tattoos, piercings and even branding. You understand this?"

Vasyl did hesitate then; he stared at the man for a long time before looking at the contract while changing his grip on the pen a few times. Finally he leaned forward and flipped a few pages before rereading a paragraph and then pointing to it, “this says that physically I will be unchanged when I leave."

“Good catch, son. Yes that's true. Any changes that Mister Smythe has done to your body will, at the end of your employment unless you choose to keep them, be surgically reversed." This answer seemed to satisfy Vasyl and he leaned forward again and this time signed and dated the contract.

The demeanor of worried legal representative slipped away as a grin spread across the lawyers aging face. “Thank you, my boy. Now if you would, strip down and put this on." Mr. Jameson passed over a blindfold before taking up the file folder and putting it away. Once done he leaned back in his chair, hungrily looking over the young man before him now that he did not have to fear the boy would run. Even if he did he would find the outer office door had been locked and guards posted to keep slaves, those who had a change of mind after signing the papers, from making a mad dash for freedom. Truthfully, those were the best and while some had, in the past, put up a good fight and it was always strangely fulfilling to watch the guards wrestle their prey to the ground, rip the clothes from them and tie them up for transportation.

Vasyl wasn't going to be one of the runners though it seemed, not that this disappointed Jameson greatly. The teenager looked over the blindfold and then at the man's lascivious expression before he smirked slightly. Having little shame he loosened his tie before starting with the buttons of his shirt, taking his time about it as he watched the lawyer's eyes down over his smooth, toned chest as it was revealed.

There was no real hesitation involved, Vasyl merely moved slowly to allow the lawyer a nice show before he'd be hauled off. The truth of the matter was that despite what he had said it really wasn't just about the money. Over the last few years the boy had begun searching out adult sites on the internet, a normal thing for most teenaged boys, but nothing had quite done it for him until with the last family shift he ended up in the care of a second cousin. There he had stumbled upon a few links in the browsers history. Predominately bondage oriented, though there were a few that he was sure had to be illegal; the sites had expanded his world and sexual appetites greatly.

Though he might be loath to admit it aloud Vasyl was enjoying the show he was putting on for the aging man. The shirt fell away to join the tie on the ground before he slowly slid his hands down his chest and stomach before unbuttoning the slacks he wore. As he slid those down his thumbs vanished within the waist band to hook onto his boxer briefs and push those down as well. Amid all this shoes and socks were removed, but the lawyer's attention was focused higher.

Vasyl slowly pushed the last shreds of clothing he wore down, his achingly hard cock popping free as the undergarments and pants moved down his thighs. As it bounced up and slapped Vas in the stomach the lawyer reached down and adjusted his own burden. The young man's length was cut which only increased the apparent size of it. Seven, perhaps eight, inches in length it seemed to be about the size of a fifty cent piece around. Below the tempting view Jameson could see the young man's sparsely haired nut sack that looked large enough to be a good handful.

An arm passed in front of the focus of his gaze as Vasyl reached for the blindfold. Looking up Mr. Jameson watched the young man slip it into place and he smirked a little bit before reaching to press a button under his desk. The door opened and two well-built men stepped in to inspect their employer's newest acquisition. After a few brief moments a ball gag was forced between Vas' lips and fastened around the back of his head by one man while the other put a collar on him and attached a leash. His hands were drawn behind him and leather shackles put into place and finally, also strangely, a pair of ear plugs were added.

With his movement limited and his senses cut off Vasyl was turned about and guided out of the room. As they walked he tried to recall the path that he had taken into the office, but his nerves had caused him to forget much of it. The walk was blessedly short though as they moved down a corridor and then stepped into an elevator. A few brief moments later and frigid air struck his naked flesh as they stepped out into the parking garage.

If there were any witnesses to this progression Vasyl couldn't tell. Every time he thought he might have heard something and slowed a little bit pain would blossom as he was suddenly struck on the ass by what felt like a leather flogger. After forty paces or so the men stopped and one began running their hands over his body while the other two unlocked their vehicle.

The trunk was opened and then he found himself being lifted up and laid out inside something like a Styrofoam cutout quite close to his size. One of the men slid two tubes into his nose and tested to assure he could breathe before he felt a matching top, which the breathing tubes ran into, to his 'bed' put in place. The seam was sealed up with tape and his crate was stood up before a hose was shoved in the top. Hot liquid, though not hot enough that he was scalded, began to pour down over him and ran down to his feet before moving upwards and filling in all the spaces.

A groan escaped his gagged lips as the substance, which was already hardening around his feet and legs, kept filling the Styrofoam prison. Vasyl flexed when it got up to his ass and allowed it to slip between the cheeks even as his raging hard cock and balls were covered. A little even attempted to slip down into his cock slit, a sensation he had never before experienced, but was unable to get very far. As the viscous liquid got higher it became more difficult to expand his chest to draw anything but short, shallow breaths. Still it continued to come until his head was covered. Only when he was entirely encased was the top sealed.

Thanks to the cold winter temperatures that were already trying to pierce the boy's prison the material, which had a rubbery consistency, had begun to harden. A few minutes, it was impossible for Vasyl to keep track of exactly how long, passed and he was shifted to his back as the guards placed the entombed young man into the trunk of the car. A few moments later and they were underway.

Breathing was difficult, but never impossible, and the time slipped away from Vasyl as he was transported to his new home. How long the trip lasted he couldn't say. Even the times that they stopped or turned were difficult to feel encased as he was. He did grow hungry and thirsty, but at times he dozed in and out. By the time that the car stopped and turned off Vas was completely disoriented.

His crate was lifted out of the car and carried into a house. After that some light started to filter past his closed eyes as the foam mold was removed, leaving him encased in the rubbery substance and still unable to move. Shortly after this he started to get cold again and he noticed that the material was firming up even more. When it became hard as ice, for lack of a better comparison, a blow came to his side and sent vibrations through the prison. He felt more than heard the crack and then suddenly he was falling forward as the material shattered.

Strong, and blessedly warm, arms caught the falling body before it struck the ground and then the ear plugs were removed. The tubes were taken from his nose and he heard a low chuckles escape from a deep voice. “Aren't you quite the mess, boy... you probably couldn't even tell me what day of the week it is just now. Now I'm removing the mask, but keep your eyes closed until they adjust to the light," the stranger warned before pulling off the blindfold.

Even with his eyes shut tightly Vasyl winced as light cut through. He was pulled up against what felt like a muscular body and then vigorously rubbed until he had started to warm and blood started to circulate once again. Slowly then he started to open his eyes, testing how much he had readapted, and then finally looked up at the man holding him.